Prelude
by Veszelyite
Summary: Alexiel and Jibril, before the start of the second rebellion in Heaven. Yuri overtones.


**Prelude**

Written for: Melymbrosia in the Yuletide 2004 Challenge

by Veszelyite

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DISCLAIMER: The characters of Angel Sanctuary belong to Yuki Kaori and her associates. This fic is written for fannish entertainment purposes only.

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The cloud whales responded to the summons, gliding down from the upper levels of the atmosphere, the eddying mist that rolled between the levels of Heaven dissipating before them. They circled, drawing even with a rooftop garden that crowned one tower of the palace, their rough sides drawing close enough to lightly brush against the stone.

Jibril laid a hand along the thick, furrowed skin of the cloud whale's back. "Thank you for coming on such short notice," she murmured.

Her words were met by whale song, from the one that waited patiently for her to step onto his broad back, and from the two others of the pod that circled majestically around the tower, watching her with dark, liquid eyes. They didn't mind, they assured her. They were honored to perform this small service for the Archangel of Water.

Jibril gave a small smile of gratitude, gathered her skirts and the hem of her cloak, and climbed up onto the top of the short wall that surrounded the edge of the tower. "We're not going far. I won't take up much of your time." Without hesitation, she stepped across the narrow gap between the cloud whale and the wall, her soft slippers finding sure purchase on the rough hide.

There came a faint exclamation from the doorway of the tower behind her, betraying the presence of an intruder to the peaceful garden. The sound was quickly followed by the hurried tattoo of running footfalls on marble, and the rustle of cloth as the person dropped to the ground in profound obeisance. "Please, Jibril-sama, you mustn't leave! I beg you, don't leave the protection of the palace!"

The voice was that of one of her closest handmaids--a loyal, trusted servant, even if one a bit too nervous and high-strung. Jibril gazed down at the trembling shoulders of her maid. Her gaze sharpened as she took note of the marked sign of distress--the girl was clearly terrified. "Speak," she said gently, "Why do you say it's not safe?"

The maid hesitated. Without lifting her forehead from the stone, she drew up the tatters of her courage, and blurted, "Evil things have been happening in Heaven. They say something terrible has been unleashed."

_Ah._ That news came as something of a surprise. The rumors were flying fast, if even the servants had heard.

Jibril favored the kneeling girl with a small smile. "I have to go," she said truthfully. "I've a promise to keep that can't be delayed. But please don't worry about me." She gestured at the creatures still circling the tower around her. "As you can see, I'm not traveling alone."

The maid looked up long enough to dutifully note the presence of the cloud whales above, but still she did not look reassured. Though Jibril's heart went out to her, the Archangel did not have the luxury of time to cosset any of her servants today. She had only a narrow window of opportunity in which to accomplish her goal. If she arrived at her destination too late, her entire reason for leaving would be in vain.

Jibril patted the cloud whale's back, and the animal obediently swung away from the tower, heading out towards the open sky. "Please don't worry," she called over her shoulder. "The place I'm going is not dangerous. ...And if anything tries to interfere with my return, I promise that I will arrange for an escort of the guard to bring me securely home." She thought she heard the maid return a reluctant acknowledgement, but all further words were lost from hearing by the enfolding rush of the heavenly wind.

When Jibril appeared in the doorway of an unassuming Yetziran perfume shop at the outskirts of the city a scant time later, the man behind the counter did not look surprised to see her. "Jibril-sama," the merchant said, with a deep, respectful bow. "She's waiting for you."

Jibril nodded, masking the flutter of anticipation she suddenly felt, and allowed herself to be escorted down the hall behind the counter and to the door of one of this building's many back rooms. The merchant bowed and left her, and she pushed against the partially open door. It swung open easily on soundless, well-oiled hinges to reveal a simple, sparsely furnished room.

There was a figure standing across the room--a woman, cloaked and with her dark hair hooded, looking out the window across the city. Jibril stopped just inside the threshold, gently closing the door behind her. For a long moment, she allowed herself the simple luxury of standing still to gaze at the other, feeling warmth spread through her chest at seeing this person again after so very long.

The feeling was short-lived, as her eyes fell upon the long, cloth-wrapped bundle strapped across the woman's back. Words formed and died at the back of Jibril's throat. She wanted to say 'Welcome back'. ...Or maybe 'It's been a long time. You look well.' ...Or even, 'I've missed you. It's good to see you again.' ...But the cold presence of the wrapped bundle, with its aura of malice and threat caused all thoughts of warm greetings and happy reunions to fade away and die.

"So it was you," Jibril managed to murmur softly at last. "I had wondered."

Organic Angel Alexiel turned from the window at those words. The lower half of her face was veiled, but as her eyes fell on Jibril, she pulled the cloth aside to reveal high cheekbones, full, soft lips, and a face that could have been sculpted out of marble. Beautiful, and flawless, as none but the daughter of Adam Kadamon could be.

Those lips were not smiling in welcome, as Jibril had half-hoped they would be. But then, Jibril knew that her own lips were not smiling either. This would not be like previous reunions of years past, when the exiled angel had crept across the boundaries of Heaven on clandestine business to hide out in Yetzirah for a week or a month. Jibril had never asked how she managed, or what secret path Alexiel had found that allowed her to slip back and forth, undetected, across that carefully guarded border. She did not question, only welcomed the return of her friend, her confidant, her lover--allowing herself to bask in the glow of companionship, familiarity, and rekindled passion without pausing to dwell on the cause.

The cloth-wrapped item slung across Alexiel's back was ample proof of what Jibril had long suspected and ignored--that those visits had been for a far more serious purpose than a pleasurable dalliance or a simple social call.

"Jibril."

It hurt Jibril's heart to hear that husky, dulcet voice speak her name. Hurt, because it evoked the same response of love and desire that it always did, but the cold bundle across Alexiel's back signified the unfolding of events that made those emotions a sudden burden rather than something to be cherished and enjoyed. "You've gone too far this time, Alexiel," she said, her voice sounding strange and distant in her own ears. "There's no way to turn back from this, now."

"I don't intend to turn back from it," Alexiel answered simply. Indeed, her face and voice betrayed nothing but acceptance and iron-clad resolve.

Stung by the certainty in the other angel's voice, the Great Cherubim chose not to waste words. She gestured to the bundle strapped over Alexiel's shoulder. "That sword was sealed away in the highest level of Heaven, with good reason. You of all people must be aware of its history."

"I am," Alexiel answered evenly, unmoved. "And you of all people must understand why I've chosen to claim it as my own."

Jibril felt her nails bite into her palms. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, why Alexiel had done this. She had listened to the other angel confess the promise she had made to Rociel, watched as she agonized over her brother's failing sanity, and shared her helplessness at the impasse she found herself in, with no way to break the deadlock between herself and her perfectly-matched sibling. This weapon was the only way to tip the balance of power and allow Alexiel to fulfill her vow. And yet, still Jibril wanted to shake the other angel, for her foolish courage, for her stubborn pride. "Every last one of Nanatsusaya's wielders have gone insane and died on the edge of that blade." Unspoken, the numb helplessness and horror she felt at the thought, that this woman could easily come to meet the same end.

"I know." Unspoken in return, that Alexiel had already weighed and accepted her fate.

Neither of them had moved through the whole exchange. A roomful of space still stood between them, between the doorway and the window. Jibril hesitated, then spoke again, hating herself for her weakness even as the words left her lips. "Please, let me go with you."

Surprise flared briefly in those expressive eyes. Then it faded, and Alexiel gave a sad smile. "No." There was no room for compromise in the simple word. "I have never allowed you to be involved in the risks I take, any more than you have allowed me to become involved in yours."

"This is different," Jibril insisted. "You know that it is. This time we are talking about open rebellion in Heaven. This fight..." She was forced to stop, as suddenly, Alexiel was across the intervening space, her hand closing gently over Jibril's mouth, silencing her protest.

"...Is not yours," the other angel said softly. "I won't rob the people of Yetzirah and the elemental spirits of their greatest champion. Your battlefields are not and have never been mine. This fight is not for us to share."

Jibril closed her eyes, humbled and unwilling to look upon the compassion and understanding in the other angel's face. She drew in a trembling breath as Alexiel slowly lowered her hand.

"You can't stay." Not even for a day, not even for an hour. Every moment Alexiel wasted in her company, the exiled angel risked discovery and worse. "They'll be hunting you now, you have to go." Jibril drew in a deep breath and steeled herself. "I won't stand in your way. Only allow me to use my power to speed your journey. It will allow you to slip away from Yetzirah undetected by the ones who would stop you. It's the very least I can do." Her voice broke on the last syllable, and still she could not meet Alexiel's eyes.

"Thank you," Alexiel murmured softly. "For this...and for everything." Then, leaning forward, she caught Jibril's lips in one long, last, tender kiss.

So sweet, that mouth. Sweet, and yet so bitter at the same time. Jibril tasted the salt of fresh tears, Alexiel's as well as her own. Neither could escape the realization that this was far more than a simple farewell. Both of them were all too well aware of the harsh truth--that this was to be nothing less than their final goodbye.

Blinking back her tears, aching inside, Jibril summoned water to do as she'd promised and transport Alexiel away. She tightly bound her bleeding heart with a resolve that matched her lover's. Alexiel had been right, this was not a battle in which Jibril could fight. This was not a place that she could follow. Not now.

Not yet.

But as she watched the last fold of bright cloth, the last strand of dark hair vanish behind the curtain of shimmering liquid, she made a promise to herself and to the now-distant exile who carried the deadly weapon that might well be the deciding factor in the conflict to come. As the last droplets of water flowed away, leaving not even a trace of mist behind, Jibril slowly walked across the barren room, wrapped her arms around herself, and took up Alexiel's place by the window, staring out at the city beyond.

_I cannot follow now, but someday...someday that will change. If I have to go through Heaven and Hell, through death and beyond, I promise you, Alexiel. One day we will be together again._

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End file.
